03 - Organized Grime (19 page)

Riley stayed with me the whole time. The way he walked made it look like he wore a coat lined with iron weights. He was worried about me, and I could appreciate his concern. If I’d found Riley unconscious, I’d be the same way. I just wished I could wipe away those worries—but I couldn’t.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Riley paced over to my bed and leaned toward me, his eyes serious, his forehead wrinkled.

“I’m sorry, Riley.”

He sat in the chair at my bedside. “Why are you sorry, Gabby?” He looked honestly confused—was it simply because I was apologizing, which was a miracle in itself?

“You probably wish I was an accountant, cleaning up people’s financial messes, don’t you?”

He stroked my hand. “I want you to be you, Gabby. I just wish that didn’t mean you were in danger.”

“I guess I’m not going to be making it to class tonight, huh? So much for graduating this semester.”  Disappointment pressed on me.

“Talk to your professors. I’ll bet they’ll let you make it up.”

Maybe. Just maybe, I supposed.

I pushed my head back into the lumpy hospital pillow and closed my eyes. A thought had been swirling in my head since I regained consciousness. “Riley, if Sierra is dead, why is someone coming after me?”

He shrugged. “Maybe they think you know something.”

“Or maybe Sierra isn’t dead…”

Riley’s eyes looked misty. “I hope that’s true, Gabby.”

My heart pounded with enough intensity that everyone within a mile could hear it probably. “But you don’t think it is.”

“I’m praying it is.”

My throat burned. My eyes watered. And that was on top of my swollen, bruised face, my achy shoulder, and my tender ribs. I had to change the subject before my pain—both physical and emotional—pulled me under. “So, did you schedule that date with Lydia yet?”

He shook his head, his face still lined with tension. “No.”

“Her divorce should be final now.”

“Gabby…” He opened his mouth and closed it again.

“What? What is it?”

“She’s disappeared, Gabby.”

I tried to sit up, but my ribs ripped with pain. “What do you mean?”

He shook his head, but the action looked heavy. “She’s gone. No one knows what happened to her.”

I closed my eyes, but Riley nudged my chin up.

“Hey, let’s move on to happier subjects.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that you were quick enough on your feet to call 911 before you passed out.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to crack a grin and show he was joking. “I didn’t call 911.”

“Sure you did. The phone was in your hands. Your call record showed 911.”

I shook my head. “But I didn’t call.”

He stared at me with those intense blues. “Then who did?”

“I have no idea.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The next morning, I felt both better and worse—kind of like after a stomach virus when you’re thankful because you know the worst is over but you still feel depleted and rotten.

Tim sat across from me. I couldn’t be certain, but it almost appeared that he’d shaven and even taken a bath. Could it be?

But there was even a greater “could it be” that I’d asked myself lately. Could it really be that God had brought my brother back into my life?

I glanced over at Riley. “Would you give us a few minutes?”

He nodded toward the door, but his motions were slow, as if he didn’t want to go. “I’ll just be outside.”

After he left, I turned to my brother. My eyes filled with tears. The events of the past week had caused my emotions to break. The protective walls around me seemed as battered and weak as my body at the moment.  “I’m sorry.”

He squinted. “About what?”

Where did I start? “About everything. About not watching you more closely when you were little. About not making more of an effort to talk to you once you came back into my life.”

He bit the side of his lip for a moment, studying me. “Why haven’t you made more of an effort?”

I shrugged—at least, I tried to shrug. My body hurt too much to carry it to completion. “Why would you want to talk to me?”

“Because you’re my big sister.”

“I’ve been horrible to you.”

“You have?”

“I nicknamed you The Smell.” I couldn’t look at him as I admitted it.

He chuckled. “You’ve always nicknamed people, Gabby. Remember we’d sit out on the deck and nickname our neighbors? That one woman who smoked all the time? You called her Chimney.”

I smiled, picturing the woman perfectly. “You remember that?”

“Of course. You’re bad with names, so you assign objects to remember people by.”

Wow. Not a lot of people got that about me. I was impressed.

He drew his eyebrows together. “But really… The Smell?”

A smile cracked my face. “It’s the dumpster diving.”

He nodded. “I get it.” His eyes got misty as he stared at me. “You remind me of mom, you know.”

My heart lurched. My mom was a great woman. I still missed her to this day. I wished she’d had the opportunity to be happy, to see Tim again. “You think?”

“Absolutely. You look just like her. Deceitfully angelic.” He grinned.

I swatted him. “Not nice.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “If your brother can’t say that, then who can?”

My smile slipped. “Nearly every day since you were kidnapped, I’ve dreamed about how life would have been different if I’d been watching you more closely that day at the park. Maybe you wouldn’t feel the need to dumpster dive now. Life would have turned out different for you.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t turn out all bad. And dumpster diving is cool. I don’t do it because I’m poor. I do it because of the environment. We’re such a wasteful society.” He sobered. “Besides, life wasn’t always that easy for you growing up, Gabby. Even before I disappeared, I remember how dad couldn’t hold down a job and how he liked to drink. I’m sure when I disappeared that only escalated. Dad’s always used alcohol as a crutch.”

“You still seem to love him.”

“Of course I do. He’s my dad.”

I shook my head. “He got worse after mom died, Tim. He called me every week begging for money. He lost our house because he couldn’t make the payments and had to move into the trailer where he lives now. It’s been bad.”

“You’re been a good daughter helping him out like that.”

“I was mean to him.”

“He’s seemed truly sorry since you had that talk with him. Maybe it was just what he needed to hear.”

“I was rude.”

“You’ve been good to him, Gabby. I think this was the first step to healing your relationship.”

I laughed as I wiped the moisture from my cheeks—again. “Awfully wise words from someone who’s been gone for two decades.”

“What can I say? You got the looks; I got the brains.” His smile slipped. “He wants to come see you, you know, but he’s afraid you’ll turn him away.”

I rubbed my fingers against my blanket. “Maybe that’s for the best.”

We caught up for the next thirty minutes, talking about everything from school to Sierra to other childhood memories. Finally, Riley stuck his head in the door. “I’m going to run get a bite to eat. Will you be okay while I’m gone?”

I held up my arm, which was attached to an IV still. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’ll keep an eye on her?” Riley looked at Tim.

“I’d be honored.”

As soon as Riley left and after I’d counted to ten for good measure, I turned to Tim. “I want to take a walk.”

“But you just told Riley—”

“I know, I know. I don’t want him to worry about me. Poor guy has probably lost ten years off of his life since he met me. ” I pointed to my face to bring home the point that being around me could be stressful. “I just need to breathe.”

“Where do you want to walk?”

“You’ll see. Just help me get in the wheelchair.”

It took several minutes to get situated, but finally I settled in my new transportation. As Tim wheeled me past a mirror, my hand clutched the wheel, and I jerked to a stop. I stared at my reflection. Wow. I looked bad with a capital B. I hardly recognized myself. No wonder Riley was freaking out so much.

My lip was busted, my left eye bruised and the entire right side of my face swollen. The bandage around my head did nothing for my hair, nor did the wrap around my neck.

“Someone did a number on you, Sis.”

“I’d say.” Chills raced through me as I remembered the attack.

“You’re lucky you’re still alive.”

“Tim, do you know anything about the National Federation for a Cleaner Earth?”

He began pushing me out of the room. “Yeah, I know about them. What do you want to know?”

“Who’s involved?”

“That, I couldn’t tell you. I’ve seen their literature. I’ve been on their website. I’ve heard whispers about them at my freegan meetings.”

“You have freegan meetings?” I tried to look back at him, but my neck wouldn’t turn that far.

“Of course.”

I shook my head, trying to get my focus back. “You’re not affiliated with them, are you?”

“Of course not. They’re some serious dudes. They’re bent on revenge. Think that’s the best way to get their message across. Why?”

“I wonder if they’re behind this whole fiasco.”

“I wouldn’t put it past them.”

Why did my brother seem so normal all of the sudden? Just last week, I’d thought he was the strangest person on the planet. Now he seemed like someone I wanted to have coffee with and give a wedgie to.

“Where are we going, by the way? Anywhere in particular?”

“Room 132.”

“Who’s there?”

“James Harrison.”

***

Tim knocked on James’s door, and a tired “come in” sounded from the other side. We gave each other a quick glance before pushing the door open, and Tim wheeled me inside. Thankfully, no one was there except James.

He looked thinner and frailer than I remembered him. His bony face was even more pronounced and paler than usual.  His already-thin hair even looked like it had thinned more. I guess a life-threatening heart attack and subsequent surgeries could do that to a person.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

Tim nudged me closer. “I’m Gabby.”

“Why are you here?” His voice held an edge of authority, even in his weak state.

“I have a few questions for you.”

“I’m not in the mood for questions. Besides, I’ve told the police everything I know. I certainly don’t want to rehash anything with…” He sneered at me. “With you.”

“You don’t even know who I am.”

“You’re that crime-scene cleaner. You spilled punch on me at a benefit last year.”

I blinked in surprise. “You remember that?”

“Yes. What I don’t know is why you’re here to ask me questions.”

“My friend is being accused of bombing your office building.”

His sneer deepened. “And?”

“She didn’t do it. And now you’ve had a supposed heart attack. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on here.”

“I most assuredly had a heart attack. Ask my doctors.”

“I think someone poisoned you. They thought you would die and a heart attack wouldn’t cast any suspicion on them. The police would think it happened naturally.”

“Those are some crazy theories you have. No merit to them at all. You’re just trying to create things.”

Was I? “I don’t believe in coincidences. Someone’s trying to make you pay. I just have to figure out why. And I have to figure out why my friend is being framed for it.”

“Listen to me. Mind your own business. Keep your silly theories to yourself. You’ll regret it otherwise.”

Things began clicking in my mind. The housing development. The bomb at his office. The victims—a solar energy guy, a plaster man and a landscaper. All men who could have worked for James.

I wheeled myself closer. “You’re behind everything that’s happened, aren’t you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m in the hospital.”

“Everything happened before your heart attack. What are you trying to cover up?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What did you do to my friend Sierra?”

“Sierra? That nut job?”

“She’s not a nut job.”

“She was about to have a coronary over that housing development.”

“You were going to harm delicate wetlands where precious creatures critical to our ecosystem lived. What did you do? Pay off people in order to build there?”

His face reddened. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And if you’re smart, you’ll stay out of it.”

“Don’t make him have another heart attack, Gabby,” Tim whispered.

A nurse bustled in, her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “Who are you? Didn’t you read the sign out front? No visitors. He’s supposed to be resting.”

I’d said what I needed to say and found out what I intended. Something was going on. His reaction only proved that.

“Let’s go.” I looked back at the frail, angry man behind me. “Rest well, Mr. Harrison.”

Tim pushed me from the room. No sooner had I stepped out did I see a figure in the distance. My stalker. She saw me too, and her face froze. In a split second, she took off.

I looked back at Tim—or tried to, at least. Finally, I shouted, “After her!”

***

Tim ran down the hallway, pushing my wheelchair so fast that my IV bag flapped in the wind. We flew past nurses, a lunch cart and a few horrified visitors—horrified probably because I looked like the living dead more than anything else. My neck ached at the speed, but I ignored the pain.

Why was my stalker here? What was she doing?

We rounded the corner just as she disappeared into the stairway. Rats. There was no way I was getting this wheelchair there.

But I could send Tim after her.

I opened my mouth to tell him, when Riley stepped into sight. His expression—rigid and unapproving—said it all. “What are you doing?”

I pointed to the stairway. “My stalker. She was here.”

“Why aren’t you resting in your room like you’re supposed to be? Do you not realize how serious your injuries are?” Riley looked at my brother. “And you? You’re supposed to be watching her, not helping her get into trouble.”